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Sven returned to Gorigan, his birthplace and childhood home. Most of the original clan members were gone and had been replaced by new settlers. Once a place of glory so strong that it received tribute from surrounding clans, was now just an ordinary fishing village.
"Do you know anyone here?" Urich, sitting by the beach, asked Sven who was walking over to him.
"Just a few," Sven replied, gazing at the horizon. The sea was frozen, halting any ship departures during winter. The frozen sea was majestic.
"Frozen sea! How cool is that? If we walk across, do you think we would reach the Edge of the World or the eastern continent?" Urich chuckled, looking at the frozen sea. He stood up, and the children of Gorigan, seeing the strangers Urich and Sven, glanced at them and ran away.
"What are you going to do now? You've seen your daughter and came back to Gorigan."
Urich wiggled his fingers. He was always ready. His sole purpose in following Sven was to guide him to the Field of Swords. That was his role.
"Mulin," Sven said as he pointed northward.
"Mulin? Ah, the sacred site of the north," Urich mused after tilting his head in confusion for a second.
"Even here they’ve lost the old traditions. This isn't the north I knew."
"Not a bad place, though, eh? It’s quiet...
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